2002-06-12 - 10:56 p.m.

The FL tells you to do things in 15 minute increments, setting a timer. Timer=pressure, so you know I skipped that part. And, ok, so I used little rewards. Change the sheets, then make myself a pot of coffee. Wipe down the bathroom, smoke a cigarette. Cook dinner and do the dishes, computer time.

How pathetic is that? It won't be long before I'm collecting brown paper bags and string.

I went to the game on Monday night, and last night I worked late and then the boyfriend and I went out for a beer at our local dive bar. And I got my hair done. But other than that I haven't been out at all. Work is insane, things are good, but I'm swamped, and wiped out at the end of the day.

And I can't start packing yet. This place is entirely too small to be living with packed boxes around. I've been trying to clean things out, and to find homes for the air conditioner and the bed, and get rid of the excess. Having a little trouble with that one, too. I find myself sitting on the floor, going through envelopes of business cards of people I don't remember, restaurants I ate at years ago, and spare thread for my angora sweater. And for some reason, I can't bring myself to throw these things out. Slow going, to say the least.

Tomorrow is another crazy day at work, and then I'm going out with Ellen. I definitely need a drink.

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